What does it mean to be a woman?
MARION BOWMAN was born in Belize, spent her childhood sailing on the sea, and then relocated to the busy city of New Orleans, Louisiana. After college, she trod a path toward marriage and motherhood, just the same as other young women of the 1950's. Love for her children fostered duty and self-sacrifice, while her role in marriage was guided by society'sconfines. Yet an ache began to churn within her heart.
SAILING INTO THE WIND: A MEMOIR OF LIFE LESSONS examines the struggle of seeking one's own identity beyond the labels of wife and mother. Is it okay to want more? Through raw honesty, Marion reflects on what it means to be a woman and how she discovered the biggest adventure of her life. Ponder this deep question about your own journey as you read along.
Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.
Marion Bowman, Religious Studies, The Open University, UK has written widely on vernacular religion, and contemporary spirituality in Glastonbury. Publications include Religion in Cathedrals: Pilgrimage, Place, Heritage, and the Politics of Replication co-edited with Simon Coleman, and Reframing Pilgrimage in Northern Europe (Numen 67:5-6) co-edited with Dirk Johannsen and Ane Ohrvik.
Introduction, xiii,
Sanctuary, xvii,
Part 1: Roots,
Early Years in Belize, 3,
Bobby and Alexandria, 6,
Life in Stann Creek, 10,
New Orleans: The Big Easy, 12,
Branching Out, 17,
Boys, 21,
New Friends, 24,
Part 2: Nest,
Playing Sports, 29,
Money, 33,
Leaving the Nest, 36,
Heartbreak, 39,
Wings across the Ocean, 41,
Part 3: Wings,
Door Number One, 51,
Supermom, 54,
Bren, Nan, and Erika, 57,
Arabian Nights, 72,
Door Number Two, 78,
Dear Diary: A Journal from Ukraine, 81,
Two Crazy American Women, 95,
Starry, Starry Night, 100,
Sailing, 105,
Polo, 110,
Part 4: Singing My Song,
Montessori Dreams, 115,
Lifeline, 122,
Serendipity, 128,
Damage from Hurricane Katrina 2005 Treasures of Katrina, 131,
Dreaming, 138,
Part 5: Captain of the Ship,
Gazing, 143,
The Next Generation: Amelia, Jack, and Max, 146,
Sands of Time, 152,
A Different Path, 155,
Next, 159,
Reflections, 163,
Suggested Reading, 165,
Early Years in Belize
* * *
In a small town like Stann Creek, it was natural that my mother and father grew up together. My father was from a wealthy family and went about courting all the available young women, but he only had eyes for the feisty next-door neighbor, my mother. Although my mother's family was not of the same economic status as my father's, her natural beauty combined with her spunky nature intrigued him. They frolicked as young adults and were soon married; my mother was nineteen and my father was twenty. Together they had four children: Lolita, Sonny, me, and Carol.
I was born in Belize, the third of four children to our parents, Sandy and Leonie Bowman. As most mothers do, mine often spun the story of my birth. She reminded me year after year that the church bells rang upon the stroke of the midday hour at the very moment of my birth. What an entrance!
Alexander "Sandy" Edward Bowman, my father, came from a wealthy family of citrus growers. Dangriga — or Stann Creek, as it was known back in the day — is a small town about thirty-five miles from the capital city of Belize and had a population of only a few hundred people. It was a small, dusty town that had been settled mostly by people whom the British referred to as Black Caribs; these were the Garinagu people, who had arrived to the coast of Belize in the early nineteenth century. They were the descendants of Nigerian slaves whose ship sank off the coast of St. Vincent in the Caribbean. Belize was also home to a handful of Europeans that owned most of the local businesses. My paternal uncle was one of them. He built a beautiful home on the top of a ridge, overlooking the valley. Miles of orange groves and grapefruit orchards lay below. I have visited that area on occasional travels back to Belize. He chose that spot well, for it is truly quiet and serene.
When I tell people that I was born in Belize, they pepper me with questions, such as "Was your father in the military or an explorer?" Belize sounds so exotic to other people. For many generations, it was a mysterious place and unknown to most of the world. No one is quite sure why my grandfather migrated to Belize, but we think he came from somewhere near Stonehaven, England. He somehow found his niche in the profitable mahogany business and settled in the area with his wife, Marie Therese Genico.
Leonie Florence Kuylen, my mother, came from parents who had migrated from Belgium to Central America in the early 1800s. They came to join a sister living in El Salvador. My great-grandfather then moved to Guatemala, but after many revolutions decided to move to the British colony of British Honduras, which is now Belize. They first settled in the capital city but decided to venture thirty-six miles down the coast to the town of Stann Creek, now Dangriga. They bought some property and opened a business. At that time, this tiny town was busily engaged in producing and exporting bananas, coconuts, and mahogany.
Two years after my parents married, my dad's brother married my mother's older sister. Uncle Henry and Aunt Carrie had four children: Len, Henry Jr., Norma, and William. These were the cousins we knew the best; we spent much time playing together. My four cousins, my three siblings, and I were quite a crew of children.
Over the years, my father began a cycle of drinking and gambling, and as a result did not act responsibly. His father, Granddad Bowman, realized this and suggested that he move to New Orleans, Louisiana, where we had other relatives. He was able to get Dad into an Alcoholics Anonymous program, which transformed his life. About six months later, we moved to New Orleans.
My dad was thirty-five and starting a new life. I have always admired his courage as he went from having a very wealthy status in Belize to becoming just another middle-class person working odd jobs to support his family. In Belize, he'd never had to work because of a certain level of privilege, but after our move to New Orleans, he often took menial jobs to support us.
We moved throughout New Orleans about four times over the years. When I think back, it seems like we were always moving. I often call these our "poor days," probably because of the costs and opportunity. For a while, Dad worked for the Standard Fruit Company and drove a taxi.
After five years of various jobs in New Orleans, he liquidated some assets in Belize, and this allowed him to open a dry-cleaning business in the Kenner area, just fifty miles away from New Orleans. I was the tender age of seven when we moved to New Orleans and was twelve when we later moved to Kenner. There I would remain until finishing college and marrying.
On a few occasions, I've been able to go back to visit Belize. I always visit the old cemetery with my cousin Norma. Often I find myself gravitating between Old Town, as it is known, and parties in the valley. As in most third world and Central American nations, there is a great contrast between the rich and the poor in Belize. During the rainy season, the dirt roads become muddy, and many of the homes are made of poor materials. Many people lack the resources to maintain or repair their homes. But despite this, a piece of my heart will always consider it home. I often wonder if everyone feels this way about their birthplace. Is there an invisible umbilical cord that connects us to a place?
CHAPTER 2Bobby and Alexandria
* * *
They say it takes a village to raise a child. Since my mother had four children within six short years, she had many toddlers and young children to look after all at once. My grandmother, aunts, and uncles all lived close to one another in this small town in Belize. Although my mother had a maid to help her cook, clean, and look after all of us, it was not unusual for an aunt or grandmother to help with the nurturing of each other's children. Don't we wish it were still like this?
For some reason my aunt Olive, my mother's oldest sister by four years, decided to help my mother by looking after me. She lived with my grandmother, since she was not married and had no children, so she more or less adopted me as her own. I would go to her house to be her companion each day. Of course, I cannot remember much from that...
„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.
Anbieter: ThriftBooks-Dallas, Dallas, TX, USA
Paperback. Zustand: As New. No Jacket. Pages are clean and are not marred by notes or folds of any kind. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less. Artikel-Nr. G1504380282I2N00
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Anbieter: Ria Christie Collections, Uxbridge, Vereinigtes Königreich
Zustand: New. In. Artikel-Nr. ria9781504380287_new
Anzahl: Mehr als 20 verfügbar